


Untied tongues

by Cyberbab



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Drunken Confessions, F/M, First Time, Kissing, Love Confessions, Missing Scene, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:40:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23649361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberbab/pseuds/Cyberbab
Summary: Set at the end of S03E01 "Death defying feats".Jack can't remember what happened before he ended up in Phryne's bedroom. He needs to talk to her. But the conversation is going to be quite different from his expectations.
Comments: 30
Kudos: 82





	1. Another bad timing

**Author's Note:**

> Hello MFMM fandom :-)
> 
> This is my second work.  
> Many of you seem to have enjoyed my first fic (Care for a waltz ?) and I am very grateful for your nice comments and kudos.  
> Then I couldn't resist trying another story.  
> I guess you know how I occupy myself during this lockdown period. Hope you're all safe.
> 
> Here are chapters 1 and 2, I am almost done with 3 and4.  
> I hope you'll enjoy it.
> 
> Big thanks to Propangel who is an exceptionally kind and generous beta reader !

There had been the first supper invitation, the new tie he had minutiously chosen and bought for the occasion. Then the sleepless night before it, followed by a boring paperwork day in the office where he hadn’t been able to concentrate on his work more than five minutes without pondering about her, about his plan for the night.

Then her phone call.

Short, efficient, ruthless. _I must cancel our supper Jack. I have an unexpected guest._

_Unexpected guest._

His pride had been deeply hurt, and as if that weren’t enough, she had turned up in the middle of his crime scene, again. Wearing this outrageously beautiful black dress. 

The second supper invitation had been even worse. He was still mad at her, she had promised an explanation, he had agreed, naively hopeful, and she hadn’t been home when he had arrived. One drink, another drink, the repetitive and annoying rattling of the clock … and … he had woken up in her bed wearing mysterious pajamas with no memory of what happened. And that was bloody terrifying.

Not even to mention the confusion when he met the unexpected gentleman guest, her father, in such an embarrassing context.

He could still feel the remains of his hangover.

And here he was, like he had already been a few weeks before after the Pandarus case, sitting in his car, outside her house, tapping on the car door in a regular rhythm and trying to gather his thoughts and decide what to do next.

He wasn’t really sure what he was expecting when he finally knocked at the front door. But he certainly knew that resentment and unresolved issues weren’t the keys. He had experienced that once before with Rosie, and at least, he’d learnt the lesson.

***

Mr. Butler took his hat and coat, led him to the parlour, and before he knew it, Jack had a glass in his hand, and was standing right in the middle of an awkward conversation between Phryne and her father.

Taking a deep breath, Jack thought that he was decidedly the champion of bad timing. He tried to compose himself. Only Aunt Prudence and her moralistic look were missing to make him collapse.

“And what are we drinking to?” he asked, his eyes looking from Phryne to her father, trying to read the situation.

“To my wonderful daughter…to magic… to mermaids,” crooned Lord Fisher.

“And to miracles,” concluded Phryne before emptying her glass in only one quick sip.

Jack could really feel the tension. It was the first time he witnessed the Honourable Phryne Fisher so exasperated by someone and unable to fight back. Fisher the elder was definitely a talented man. As Phryne was nervously refilling and emptying her glass again, Lord Fisher stood next to Jack, excessively smiling and joking around about mermaids and how wonderful the show had been. Rubbish small talk.

Jack was doing his best to sound natural, but this was really getting uncomfortable. He tried to humor Phryne but it obviously didn’t work and he finally decided to stare at his shoes. He hated himself for having decided to knock on her door.

Fortunately, Mr. Butler made an appearance through the door.

“Excuse me Miss, I wanted to let you know that supper is ready to be served if you feel like it. Beef stew with vegetables. And Lamington cake.“

“Oh, thank you very much Mr. Butler,” she said on a sigh, “but I am really not hungry tonight… I assume something must have ruined my appetite,” she added, glancing fiercely at her father.

“Very well, Miss. What about you Baron?”

“Mmm, I’m not hungry either, dear Mr. B. !” replied her father. Right now, I just need to head to my room and get a good night’s rest.”

Mr. Butler nodded to them and politely stepped out the door, followed by Jack’s disappointed hungry look. Jack very much enjoyed beef stew, and Lamington cake, or anything cooked by M. Butler, and was actually desperate to eat something after this long day. But it was definitely not a good time to ask for a hot meal.

“Well, have a good night, my dear,” Lord Fisher insisted with a terribly flippant tone, leaning forward to kiss Phryne’s forehead. “And, I’m afraid I won’t be sharing my nerve tonic with you tonight, Detective Inspector,” he added, laughing and winking at Jack.

Phryne’s look darkened and she squeezed her jaw tight.

“Uh, I quite agree, Baron. Have a good night,” Jack replied obviously embarrassed at the mention of the previous night.

***

Left alone in the parlor, Phryne and Jack looked at each other in silence. Everything in Phryne’s body and attitude showed her anger and exasperation. Jack had no words. This was not what he was expecting when he finally decided to pay her a visit an hour earlier. Definitely bad timing.

“You look upset,” he said.

“I am,” she replied dryly, like a boomerang return.

Of course she was upset, Jack thought to himself. That was the most stupid thing he had ever said.

She saw him retracting into his shell even more, as if it was still possible.

“Please excuse me, Jack,” she continued with a softer voice. “I’ve been very rude. I am upset, you’re right, but it’s not your fault and I shouldn’t have said it like that.”

“It’s alright, Miss Fisher. I understand that you had a long and exhausting day. And I didn’t mean to interrupt you conversation with your father, it seemed rather important. I do apologize for that.”

He paused a few seconds, staring intensely at her and considering his options.

“Besides, I’ve come to your residence unexpected so I guess I am the one being rude. I should let you get some rest.”

“No, Jack, please!” she exclaimed. “Actually, I am not tired and I would feel much better if you stayed rather than if you left.”

God! This woman really knew how to pull the strings, at least his strings he thought, feeling a warm wave of affection for her replacing his recent bitterness.

“Are you certain?”

“Have I ever asked for something I didn’t want?”

“You score one point, Miss Fisher.”

“Good. Stop trying to escape me then, and please refill my glass, while I settle on the couch”, she said with her usual flirting tone and charming gaze, handing him her empty glass, “I definitely need more alcohol tonight to get my father out of my mind.”

Amused by her sudden change of mood, unable to resist her, he smiled, took the glass from her fingers and walked to the console where her finest liquors were kept.

“Mmm, I’m afraid that you’ve run out of whiskey,” he noticed, holding the empty crystal decanter.

“Oh, it doesn’t matter. Just pour a huge amount of whatever you find as long as it contains alcohol!”

“Very well,” he said, smelling a random flask. “Will a Martini do?”

“Perfect. Please fill the glass up to the top.”

Jack raised his eyebrows but didn’t dare contradict her and did as she said before joining her. She had removed her high heels, which were lying on the rug, and was curled at the end of the couch beneath the window, near the majestic piano. Her favorite place. He gave her the martini and sat at the other end of the couch.

Outside the daylight was dying, giving to the room an intimate atmosphere through the sheer curtains.

“So tell me, Jack, are you visiting me for a special reason or are we just enjoying our ritual post-case nightcap?” she asked, raising her glass and taking a long sip of martini.

“Well…” His words were slow and carefully chosen. “I must admit there is something … delicate… I would like to discuss with you, Phryne… If you feel like it, of course.”

The damn lump in his throat was back. He swallowed deeply, trying once again to gather his thoughts and formulate his next sentence.


	2. Interview techniques

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack doesn't know how to start this delicate conversation with P and she is in a playful mood.

“So, Jack, what is this mysterious thing you would like to discuss?”

“Well, Phryne, I am really confused about yesterday night. I… I suppose I owe you an apology.”

“You… suppose?” she asked, amused.

“Actually, I can’t recall exactly what happened yesterday. It is ridiculous, I know. I only remember waiting for you in the parlour. Mr. Butler offered me a drink and… nothing until this morning in your bedroom.”

He was blushing and his look was both sincere and anxious. Revealing his weakness made him look even more charming to her.

“I believe Mr. Butler offered you more than a single drink, Jack,” she giggled.

“Phryne, tell me what happened.”

“Are you begging me?”

He rolled his eyes before giving in. “…Yes… I am… please.”

She finished her martini and stood to refill her glass, making sure to slightly brush his shoulder and arm as she passed him.

She knew he was carefully watching her and she intentionally took too much time to reach the console and refill her glass. She enjoyed being observed, and felt his eyes on her body with delight.

He was indeed watching her, her long neck, her back, the elegant curve of her hips… but not only. Jack was an observant man, he noticed that she tripped slightly as she got up, and the slow and hesitant motion of her fingers. He knew those signs. The Honourable Miss Phryne Fisher was tipsy.

“May I offer you another drink, Jack? Something stronger perhaps?” She raised a small black bottle with Asian ornaments. “Rice liquor? It was a farewell present from M. Lin. Extreeeemely strong and very appropriate for embarrassing confessions…” she added in a playful voice.

“Well I’m not sure that mentioning M. Lin will make me feel neither relaxed, nor confident to confess anything, Miss Fisher” he said seriously.

“Come on Jack, you should be paying more attention. I used the word ‘farewell’ along with ‘M. Lin’!”

“I’ll stick to a martini, please. A small one.”

“Very well. And a big one for me. But don’t be like that, Jack. You’ve been jealous enough of my father the past two days. Now it’s time to enjoy yourself”.

After she had resumed her position on the couch, Jack had no more doubts about her state. Her blue eyes were wet and bright, her temples and cheeks slightly pink. She took another long sip of martini and Jack wondered if it was still a good idea to continue this conversation. She didn’t give him the time to think.

“Jack, nothing happened yesterday… well nothing indecent if it is what you were implying.”

Phryne knew she was drinking too much. She could feel the heat in her throat and the imperceptible blur in her eyes. It was a delicious feeling. The effects of alcohol and Jack’s intense presence highly increased her playful mood.

Dusk had given way to night and the room was only lit by a dim moonlight through the alcove window. The outline of their faces could barely be discerned in the faint blue light of the moon. 

“And now, if you want to know more about yesterday’s events, Detective Inspector, you will have to use your interview techniques. I know you’re a highly skilled policeman and I fully trust you to extract the maximum information from me.”

“Phryne, you’ve had too many drinks, I don’t think this would be reasonable.” He gave her a doubtful look.

“I don’t care about being reasonable tonight, Jack. If the martini overcomes me, I know you won’t take advantage and abuse me… Am I wrong?”

Jack was still staring at her with much gravity.

His obvious stress didn't go away. Even slightly drunk, Phryne could discern the tension of his jaw, and the pressure he was inflicting on himself. A man of honour. She liked him for being that kind of man, though this particular night, she needed something else. The last few days had been overwhelming with emotions. Tonight was supposed to be fun.

“Next question?” she continued.

“How did I end up in your bed?”

“You accidentally drank my father’s nerve tonic, and you had many other drinks before that. I don’t blame you, I will probably follow your steps tonight… except for the nerve tonic part.”

“And?”

“And? … Oh yes, you were asking about my bed!”

“Phryne, is there any chance you could stop torturing me?”

“No, I’m afraid there isn’t any.”

Her challenging tone didn’t seem to please him. He swallowed again, the way he always did when he was confused.

“What about you, Jack?” Her voice was now empathetic. “Is there any chance you could leave out overthinking just once and enjoy yourself? Our friendship is safe if it’s what you’re worried about.”

In this moonlight, her profile looked gorgeous, her pale skin almost incandescent. Her words echoed unreally to him.

He slowly sighed in relief and took a moment for an inner monologue. Their friendship was safe, she said. Whatever had happened the night before, she wasn’t resentful and he felt a warm gratitude for her understanding. Today may not be the good time to seek more than friendship; however it seemed like a perfect time to reinforce it.

Furthermore, he hadn’t allowed himself any amusement for such a long time.

“So, Inspector, what do you think?”

“Well... I suppose I can put up with a little entertainment.”

A large smile raised on her face. This man was definitely full of surprises. He was now wearing the cheeky smirk she enjoyed so much, the same he had when he put the footy scarf around her neck, or when they had sung together sitting at her piano. Finally, this night was continuing in a much better way than it had started.

“As you’ve just agreed to play my game, Inspector, let me set the rules.”

“I’m listening.”

“It is straightforward. You ask a direct and simple question, I give you a direct and simple answer.”

“I think I can manage that.”

“If I try to avoid a question, or even worse, to bribe you, I must empty my glass and refill it.”

“Alright. And what if I don’t respect the rules?”

“Well, if you misbehave, I’ll have to make sure you empty your glass as well.”

“Sounds fair to me. When does the game end?”

“I assume… when there is a winner… and let me tell you… I do not intend to forfeit.”

“I’ll try to be up to it.”

“So… shall you carry on your questioning, Detective Inspector? You were investigating last night’s events and your main witness is still keeping information from you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on chapters 3 and 4.  
> They should be ready before the end of the week, still struggling with English grammar :)  
> Please feel free to leave your comments or suggestions, I need them to improve on my writing.


	3. Confessions

The parlour was dark, the moon hidden by moving clouds. Only a faint yellow glow came from a distant street lamp.

Jack leaned comfortably on the armrest and asked his first question with a very formal tone.

“So at what time did you arrive home yesterday, Miss Fisher?”

“Around eight o’clock, I think, Inspector.”

“And what did you do when you arrived?”

“I met Mr. Butler in the hallway. He informed me that you were waiting in the parlour. Then I went upstairs to change clothes and I joined you.”

“And what happened then?”

“I came in. You were standing next to the armchair… You seemed…irritated when you talked to me.”

“What did I say?”

“Mmm…I’m not sure I’m keen on answering this one,” she hesitated. “You…you really have no idea?”

“I believe I’m the one asking the questions, Miss Fisher,” he said with a forced professional tone. “And you mentioned you’re not allowed to avoid answering them,” he added glancing at her glass with a raised eyebrow.

“Very well, Inspector, if you insist,” and she proudly drained her martini.

“So what did I say?” he continued while fetching the carafe to refill her glass.

“It was a long tiraaade,” she said, teasing.

“Tirade?”

“Yes, a long one. You sounded like a depressed Hamlet…”

“Mmm…I assume you preferred a romantic Mark Antony.”

She shook her head. “You were definitely not romantic yesterday, Jack.” Her voice was becoming louder and more serious. “You literally said that you considered yourself as a liberal minded man, but not as liberal minded as you would like to be… for me.”

He swallowed trying to hide his discomfort. Why had he been fool enough to accept this game?

“I didn’t know if I was to be flattered or vexed,” she added.

“Uh…What else did I say?”

He was now avoiding eye contact.

“You also said that despite your openness, you would never take part in my _constant_ parade of men.”

She strongly emphasized the word _constant_ with a look full of reproach.

“Constant parade… Were those my words, or are you exaggerating?”

“Your _exact_ words...” she replied, pronouncing _exact_ a little louder. “Then you listed many of my previous… gentleman houseguests... I must say your excellent memory impressed me, I didn’t know you were keeping records.”

“Well… I didn’t know either…” he whispered. “And what happened after this… tirade?”

“You sipped my father’s nerve tonic which was on the coffee table and my father suddenly opened the door and hit your head. You fell unconscious, so Mr. Butler and my father carried you upstairs.”

“Oh.”

“Jack?”

“…”

“Jack, look at me!”

“Yes?”

“Did you mean it when you said you would never be open-minded enough for me ?... And I know you should be asking the questions, but you look rather mute at the moment, so I shall take over.”

The volume of her voice had increased, her face was definitely flushed. And Jack couldn’t help thinking that Mr. Butler was within earshot.

“I don’t know, Phryne… I really don’t know… but I do know I didn’t intend to offend you. I’m sorry if I did. Please speak lower…”

“Well it doesn’t matter, does it? I can’t even say I am mad at you,” She let a long sigh out.

“So…you’re…not…upset?”

“Actually, no, I’m not… I find your jealousy quite endearing… because…because it proves to me that you care about me…and I quite like it,” she replied loudly with a dramatic hand gesture.

Her statement was followed by a silence that seemed to stretch for hours.

He took a moment to fully understand her words and their further meaning. Then he managed to be brave enough to whisper a few words.

“Thank you, Phryne… for not being mad at me.”

“Policemen usually don’t thank the witness for answering the questions,” she said casually. “Next one?”

“Let me think…Why pajamas? You could have left me in my clothes.”

“Where is the fun in that Jack?” she replied, unfolding one leg to stroke his lap.

He was surprised and confused by her touch. Despite the darkness, he could see the provocative twinkle in her eyes. He urgently needed to find a diversion.

“Remember, Miss Fisher, you said no policeman bribing.”

“Remember, Inspector, you must refill my glass then.”

“Please remove your leg.”

Her leg didn’t move an inch.

“Refill my glass.”

“Given the amount of alcohol we already had tonight, I think that might not be necessary.”

“I come to the conclusion that you’re not respecting the rules either, Inspector,” she replied, without moving her leg from where it was. What’s more, she unfolded her other leg that landed on his lap next to the first one.

She insolently took the flask from his hands, as he wasn’t able to move, and filled their both glasses, her gaze permanently locked on his. Jack was mesmerized by her confidence. She was definitely a resourceful woman.

They simultaneously drained their drinks, maintaining eye contact.

At this point it was too late to pretend shyness or propriety, he thought. He dared to put his hands on her legs and noticed she wasn’t wearing any stockings. The feeling of her skin was soft, warm and terribly engaging.

The light touch of his fingers on her bare skin sent a tremor through her body and she gave him a wicked smile in return that made him half excited and half terrified.

“You were about to answer my question, Miss Fisher, about the pajamas.”

“Of course I could have left you in your clothes, Jack. But the truth is I couldn’t resist the occasion.”

“You mean, you took advantage of me being unconscious, in order to see me… without clothes?”

“The appropriate word is naked, Jack. And yes, I did. I’ve been fancying you for faaaar too long.”

“Fancying?”

“Come on, Jaaack, don’t make that innocent look,” Her voice was raising again. “And please stop pretending you don’t enjoy flirting with me either.”

He had agreed to play the game, he could not escape now.

“Well, if we’re being honest,” he said in a whisper, “I must admit, I do enjoy it…”

“So why haven’t you kissed me yet, Jack?” Phryne’s voice was dangerously, very dangerously loud.

“What?”

“I’m dying to be kissed by you Jack!” She was almost yelling at him. “If you keep a list of my previous lovers, you should know as well that I keep a list of all the times you could have kissed me and you haven’t… because of your damn sense of honor or self-control or whatever gentlemanly principle !“ 

“Phryne, please, calm down.”

“I can’t calm down, Jack. I’m drunk! Terribly, terribly drunk! My tongue is untied and it’s my turn to recite my tirade!”

She suddenly stood up but instantly staggered and fell seated on Jack’s lap. He put his hands around her waist to steady her, both fascinated and terrified by what was happening.

And she continued her loud, very loud monologue, watching him intensely.

“So many missed opportunities, Jack! Soooo many! When you played the piano, and I sang with you. I was watching your lips, and you didn’t kiss me. No you didn’t…. Then the night after the Pandarus when you came here late and Aunt Prudence interrupted, I wished you had kissed me in front of her anyway! Damn Aunt P!”

“Phryne, please!”

“There’s no Phryne! I’m not done yet… and shall I mention all these nightcaps, or the night in Queenscliff, or the Christmas party?”

“Phryne, please, you’re too loud.”

“I don’t care…don’t care… about being loud, Jack, and there is nooo way you’ll make me stop talking! No way!”

Like a schoolboy, Jack was mortified at the thought of being heard by Mr. Butler or anyone in the household.

Actually there was one way to make her stop talking.

She was surprised but did not pull away when he suddenly drew her head towards him and crushed his open lips against hers, just as he had already done in the French restaurant. But this time, he made sure to make it last longer and she greedily kissed him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 is still in progress. If you have any suggestions or expectations, please leave a comment :-)


	4. Bedtime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a dilemma ! My last chapter will finally become two separate chapters.  
> It wasn't my initial plan, but I have been thrilled by your comments and I assume most of us are expecting our favorite characters to go a step further.  
> So, as Shakespeare would say... to dare or not to dare ?
> 
> I haven't been able to make up my mind...so I decided to write both scenes.  
> This chapter is what I consider more relevant, in-character, even if not as tempting as some drunk sex on the couch...  
> And just for fun, in the next chapter, the alternate ending. But you may have to wait one day to read it.
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy. Please let me know what you think, I looooove reading your comments :-)

Several minutes passed during which they kissed thoroughly, slowly, enjoying every moment. 

Jack hadn’t thought beyond kissing, which he considered as an achievement in itself. Eyes closed, focused, he was kissing her gently and carefully. To him, kissing was a delicious and sensual world. Sufficiently delicious, given how the evening had started.

But Phryne had a whole different perception. She had sunk into Jack’s kisses. She was overwhelmed by the sensations and abandoned herself to his hands which firmly held her behind the neck and back. All her body had become oversensitive and the more they were kissing, the more she was feeling desperately needy.

Although he had initiated the kiss, she was surreptitiously taking the lead. The tip of her tongue was exploring every part of him within its reach, his cheeks, his temples, his neck, leaving in its path light shades of lipstick. And he wasn’t resisting, even though he knew he should. He was enjoying this moment far too much. His hands were still holding her and stroking her back, not daring exploring further down yet.

She gradually set a faster pace, her hands joining her lips in their exploration. She stroked his neck, then squeezed his shoulders and arms through the thick jacket. When she started unknotting his tie, the same way she did at Guy’s engagement party, he felt they were somehow crossing a line. And the lump in his throat came back again, this time heavier. It wasn’t guilt or embarrassment, more a fuzzy impression of irrelevance.

She was progressing rapidly, his first three buttons were now undone and he could feel her fingers searching inside his shirt, stroking his collarbone down to his nipples. Her chest was compressed against his, her thighs urging on his groin, and it was causing him both pain and delight. She removed his right hand from her back and guided his fingers to brush the side of her breast near her dress’ fastening.

It was all wrong. Not like this.

He wasn’t far from losing control and it required an unsustainable effort to gently part from her and grasp her wrists just in time before she undid the forth button. The distant sound of some cutlery falling on the kitchen’s floor finished convincing him.

“What’s going on Jack?”

Her voice wasn’t loud anymore but rough and warm, her face flushed by a mix of alcohol and arousal.

“Phryne, I can’t,” he murmured.

“Why? Are you not enjoying it?” She sounded impatient and a bit frustrated.

“Of course I am, you know I am…enjoying it.”

“So?” She released one of her hands, and stroked the outline of his bottom lip.

“I cannot Phryne...not like this,” he said in a soft but determined voice. “I… I don’t want this to happen this way…your father upstairs...Mr. Butler next door… and… while you are... or we both are…uh…inebriated.”

She had freed her second hand and was back inside his shirt. “Such a technical word, Jack…well…and why is ‘inebriated’ sucha bad thing? I feel like we’re having a wonderful time…So you’d better find another reason to convince me that alcohol isn’t helping….”

Thoughts were jostling in his head and the feel of her warm body made reflection almost impossible. He was on the verge of surrending. What could he say? He needed to find a way out to release the pressure.

“It provokes the desire but it takes away the performance,” he eventually quoted into her ear.

She gazed at him, astonished. She wasn’t expecting this. When any other man on earth would have taken advantage of the situation, Jack was definitely a different man, she thought.

He was looking at her, eyes wide open, begging for some understanding.

“And who am I to compete with William Shakespeare?” She replied wryly, taking her hand off of him.

“Moreover, Miss Fisher”, he continued kissing her forehead, grateful for her retreat, “We don’t want the performance to be taken away, do we?”

She understood the humor in his voice and smiled, before letting let herself slide on the couch.

“Indeed, Jack. I suppose we don’t…” she said resigned.

She finally rested her cheek on his chest. He enveloped her with his arms and sighed.

“More seriously, Phryne, it’s not the way I’d like it to happen. But please believe, I hope we can make it happen, in… more favorable circumstances.”

“You must be right, Jack. I’m too drunk to think straight.”

He was now gently stroking her hair and rested his chin on her head.

“Tell me Jack, do you really think those favorable circumstances will happen ?

“Why are you asking?”

“Because I know you and I know what you’re thinking about."

“Really? And what am I thinking about?” he asked, surprised and curious.

“You are precisely thinking that you care too much about me to take the risk of losing me,” she said in a long yawn.

“…”

“Am I wrong?”

He replied with another question. “And why would I lose you?” he asked placing a light kiss on her hair.

“I guess because your confidence is still suffering from your divorce.” She yawned again and stretched her arms. “So you’re wondering how to handle a new relationship without risking being heartbroken.”

Jack had no words. He was mesmerized by her, by her warmth against him, by her outstanding intelligence. Even with almost a liter of alcohol in her body (seven glasses, he had been counting) she was incredibly perceptive and managed to tell him in two sentences what he had been trying to figure out for eighteen months.

She nestled against him, looking for a comfortable position before adding softly, “And because I care for you so much, Jack, I won’t push you and I’ll keep waiting.”

Jack realized that this instant was precious and far more intimate than what happened earlier. They remained like this, in a perfect stillness, for a long moment, before Jack noticed that her breath had become heavier and regular. Phryne was sleeping.

He managed to stand up without disturbing her peaceful slumber and laid her head on a pillow. He couldn’t leave her alone in the parlor, so he took a few minutes to gather his thoughts, brushed a last kiss on her lips, another one on her forehead, and walked out of the parlour.

The light in the hallway was still on. Passing the mirror, he realized how defrocked he looked, lipstick all over his face, shirt half open. He took a moment to button his shirt, knot his creased tie and swipe off his face with his handkerchief, before heading to the kitchen from where he could hear voices.

The scent of the beef stew was still floating in the air, and Jack immediately noticed slices of Lamington cake in a plate on the table, which gave him a painful stomach cramp. It reminded him that he had missed both lunch and dinner.

Mr. Butler and Dot were sitting around the kitchen table, drinking a cocoa. Dot was still wearing her hat and coat and Jack deducted she had just been back from her date. She was joyfully telling Mr. Butler what the film they had just seen was about. He briefly closed his eyes in relief of having avoided the awkwardness of meeting Constable Collins in the kitchen.

When Jack entered the kitchen, they both noted his confused attitude. His disheveled hair and the traces of lipstick on the edge of his white collar didn’t go unnoticed either, but, of course, neither of the two employees mentioned it.

“Inspector, how can I help you? Does Miss Fisher require anything?” Mr. Butler asked politely .

“Uh…well…yes actually, I think you could help me.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Mmm…Miss Fisher was exhausted…you know… the investigation… the mermaid show…and then her father… Well she… she is now asleep in the parlour and I think she should be taken to her room.”

“Of course, sir.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… kept her up so late. I would be happy to carry her to her bedroom if you need me to,” he added shyly.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, inspector," said Mr. Butler quietly.

“Don’t worry, Inspector,” added Dorothy. “If you can carry Miss Fisher to her room, I’ll come with you and I’ll take care of her once upstairs.”

“Thank you, Miss Williams.”

Jack’s stomach sent a long and loud noise complaint.

“May I offer a cup a cocoa and some cake when you’re back downstairs, Inspector?” M. Butler inquired.

Jack barely heard the question. Phryne’s words were still echoing in his mind.

_You care too much about me to take the risk of losing me…you’re wondering how to handle a new relationship without risking being heartbroken._

“Uh…I don’t know Mr. Butler. It’s quite late, I don’t want to disturb.”

“You’re not disturbing at all, Sir. You had a difficult case to solve today. It is the least I can do,” said Mr. Butler with a benevolent look, as if the old man knew that Jack needed food as well as company to soothe his emotions.

Jack hesitated a moment and finally nodded. “That would be lovely, thank you.” Actually, Mr. Butler was right. Phryne had managed to read his feelings, a mystery had been solved today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote is from Shakespeare's Scottish play (I'm not British but I've been taught that there is a superstition about the play's name...and I wouln't like to bring bad luck on AO3 !).


	5. Alternate ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go with the happy ending (The first lines are the same as in chapter 4 but this will quickly change).  
> They really deserve it, don't they ?  
> I had much fun writing this though it had not been easy to chose the words. Explicit but not crude, with a touch of Jack's reservations and Phryne power of persuasion. I've definitely improved on my English writing skills !  
> I wouldn't have suceeded without the valuable help of Propangel to whom I am really grateful.
> 
> So I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing. And I'd love to know your opinion ;)

The previous chapter was how it could have happened.

But here's what really happened.

***

Several minutes passed during which they kissed thoroughly, slowly, enjoying every moment. 

Jack hadn’t thought beyond kissing, which he considered as an achievement in itself. Eyes closed, focused, he was kissing her gently and carefully. To him, kissing was a delicious and sensual world. Sufficiently delicious, given how the evening had started.

But Phryne had a whole different perception. She had sunk into Jack’s kisses. She was overwhelmed by the sensations and abandoned herself to his hands which firmly held her behind the neck and back. All her body had become oversensitive and the more they were kissing, the more she was feeling desperately needy.

When she started unknotting his tie, the same way she did at Guy’s engagement party, he didn’t stop her but knew the line was about to be crossed.

“Phryne, are you sure?”

“Sure of what?” she said casually, dropping the undone tie on the floor and undoing his first shirt button.

“Are you sure you want…this to happen? Here and now?”

“If I wasn’t sure, Jack, I wouldn’t do this,” she said in a breath while kissing his throat.

She was moving rapidly, three buttons were now undone and he could feel her fingers searching inside his shirt, stroking his collarbone down to his nipple. Her chest was compressed against his, her thighs urging on his groin, and it was causing him both pain and delight. She removed his right hand from her back and guided his fingers to brush the side of her breast near her dress’ fastening.

“Please, undo it,” she begged, panting, and pressing on his hand.

He obeyed and slid two fingers in the opening of her dress to stroke her breast. He was expecting to feel some underwear cloth but he met her warm skin instead and it thrilled him.

“We have had a lot of drinks, Phryne. I don’t want you to think I’m taking advan…”.

She cut off his sentence. “Jack, do I look like a victim?”

“Actually, no, you don’t,” he admitted.

“Good.”

The pressure of her body against his and their jerky movements almost made him fall from the couch. Surprised she clutched to his shoulders and burst out laugh.

“Phryne please…quiet.”

“Kiss me, then.”

He did as she commanded and allowed his right hand to continue unfastening her dress, slightly running his fingertips around the outline of her breast. The feeling of his hand on her made her shiver and they almost lost their balance again on the narrow seat.

“Jack, this couch is definitely not large enough,” she panted in his ear.

“What do you suggest?” But he didn’t really care about the answer, too busy struggling with the remaining dress fastenings.

She answered by letting herself slide on the floor firmly tugging him by the shoulders. She landed on her back on the thick Persian rug between the couch and the piano, Jack above her.

This was unreal to Jack. He hadn’t been intimate with a woman in many years, and he certainly wasn’t expecting it to happen again this way, with her on the floor of her parlour, after a drinking game. Actually, intimacy on the floor had never happened to him at all, and it was far from his standards of what he considered as an expression of love and respect.

“Phryne, we’re on the floor.”

“Don’t bother about the floor, Jack. There is nothing conventional about this evening…” She was now brushing her fingers along his stiffness through his trousers.

Phryne was far too gone in desire to stop. She was undoing his belt and trouser buttons and he couldn’t take his eyes off what she was doing. The sight of her fingers on this part of him was hardly bearable and he surrended to her.

From that moment, they both stopped talking and nothing could be heard but the ruffling of clothing and muffled moans.

Jack had finally managed to get rid of the dress which had landed somewhere near the piano stool. He could hardly believe that this was actually happening. He was handling her body like a fragile piece of art, something highly expensive he would never be allowed to touch. His hands and mouth were covering her in tender caresses and he wished it would never end.

Phryne was laying half-conscious, lost in his sensuous embrace. Her eyes closed, her hands were mechanically circling his hipbones, getting closer to his manhood. Jack’s gasps became rougher, the intensity of his hands on her going crescendo and she couldn’t wait any longer.

She reached out to open the bottom drawer of a cabinet behind the piano and caught a small wooden box. It was too dark, so Jack couldn’t see what was in it. Anyway he was too busy running his tongue on her breasts to worry. He heard the sound of torn paper and then felt her fingers rolling a condom on him in a confident gesture. It crossed his mind to ask why she kept condoms in her parlour but he realized it would ruin the moment. He focused instead on her mouth to kiss her hungrily, and pressed his hips explicitly against hers. Holding the kiss, he finally gave a deep thrust before losing control and they melted in each other with spasms and muted cries.

Later, much later that night it seemed to them that time was standing still though the rattling of the clock continued. Their intertwined and motionless bodies were slowly coming back down to reality when Jack started to feel the chill of the night and broke their torpor. He felt Phryne’s body slightly trembling.

“Are you cold?”

“Mmm…I’m not sure…but I don’t feel like moving from underneath you,” she said shamelessly.

“I will take that as a compliment, but perhaps we should get dressed,” he answered, smiling.

“If you say so.”

They lazily sat up when she suddenly grabbed his arm.

“Are you alright?” he asked surprised.

“Well, I just felt dizzy…I suppose that alcohol without food in addition to physical effort aren’t a good combination,” she giggled.

“Maybe we should head to the kitchen and reheat Mr. Butler’s stew, then,” he offered, his mouth watering when mentioning the food and casually helping her put her dress back on.

“You sound like a hungry man.”

“An insatiable man, Miss Fisher.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and I'd love to read your comments ;)


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